Warm and Fuzzy
by AKApolarbear
Summary: [An assortment of oneshots taking place in a modern Final Fantasy XIII AU in which Fang is a lycan.] [Fanille] 3: One holiday always agitated her every time the season rolled around. Fang couldn't stand the humans' celebration of "Halloween".
1. Shedding

"Fang!"

She grunted, only half aware of the voice calling out. She Shifted uncomfortably before rolling over and trying to nuzzle deeper into the covers, the sudden feeling of cold clinging to her skin. She half-consciously let out a low whine; it was never this cold in the mornings any other time. What had changed? She reached her hand out as if to grab hold of something, but only hit empty air.

"_Fang!_"

The voice this time was sharper, more urgent, and her eyes shot open as the early morning fog lifted from her mind and pieces began to fit together. _Vanille_. Vanille wasn't in bed and that's why it was colder than usual and now she was calling for her like there was something wrong and that meant that there probably _was_ something wrong and that was _bad_. She threw off the blanket and jumped out of bed, stumbling slightly in her haste. She made to rush out the door, only to stop short in the doorframe at the sight of the red haired girl standing right in front of her looking none too pleased.

"Vanille!" Fang's panic had died down upon seeing that the girl was not visibly hurt, but she still held some measure of concern. Typically, Vanille was happy and had at least a small smile on her face, even in the morning. But instead, she was upset; not angry, per se – Vanille had a very hard time pulling off anger – but more so disappointed, and Fang hated it whenever she was disappointed. "What's wrong? Are you alright?"

Vanille answered by holding out one of her light pink shirts for the older woman to see, frowning – although Fang would personally describe it as more of a pout. The article of clothing didn't appear clean, which was strange, because Vanille always did laundry over the weekend; it was wrinkled and mussed, but more strangely, it was covered in dark brown strands. "_Fang_," Vanille stated, putting just enough emphasis on the name for Fang to know that she was in trouble, "you're _shedding_."

Fang paused for a moment as the information sunk in. Once the statement registered completely, she groaned and rolled her eyes. "Goddammit, Vanille, don't_ do_ that! And here I thought there was actually something wrong!"

One of Vanille's hands dropped from the shirt and became a tightly clenched fist at her side as she stamped her foot somewhat childishly. "Fang, this _is_ something wrong!" she replied, trying very hard to assert herself in a way that would make Fang take her seriously. In fact, Fang actually did start to feel a little bad for dismissing the issue so casually – not because she was actually intimidated by the shorter woman, but because she looked so upset over an issue as trivial as clothes. "I just washed and ironed this shirt last weekend!"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry. That sounded rude." Fang said hastily, holding up her hands in a show of apology to make nice. Vanille was already upset, which was bad enough – being yelled at on top of that just made her felt worse. "'S not like it's really something I can control, though…" She continued with an awkward shrug of her shoulders. "It's spring. It's getting warmer. Gotta get rid of the winter coat, y'know?"

"Oh, I know, but…" Vanille trailed off, looking at the shirt in her hands, obviously distraught. Now Fang, despite obviously not intending to get hair on Vanille's shirt, felt guilty. While it wasn't completely her fault, the entire issue fell on her shoulders at the end of the day and she was to blame. "This is one of my best shirts…" The red haired girl lamented, lowering her gaze to the floor. "I know it's not really your fault and I really can't get mad at you…I'm sorry, Fang."

"Hey, now." Fang moved instinctively towards her, taking her chin lightly and bringing her line of sight back up. "It's alright; you don't have anything to be sorry for. If anything, I'm the one who should be apologizing here." The brunette hesitated a moment, fighting a minor inner battle, before sighing in defeat as she lost to herself. "And…to make up for it, while you're gone today, I'll clean up for you. Including the laundry."

Vanille's jade eyes widened and she pulled back from Fang, shaking her head. "No! No, Fang, you don't have to do that… Really, it's fine!" It was no secret that Fang, growing up under more…feral conditions, was not a fan of cleaning. While she was fully capable and knew how to clean, she hated tidying up of any kind.

"Well, that's just too bad, 'cuz I'm gonna do it anyway." Fang replied with a shrug of dismissal. It was also no secret that once Fang said she was going to do something, it would take nothing short of a stampede of rampaging bulls to dissuade her. She was by no means untruthful, and she took her word very seriously.

Vanille thought to attempt to assure Fang once more that that wasn't necessary and that she had overreacted over the issue, but the words died in her throat. Instead, the shirt fell from her grip and she threw herself forward, wrapping her arms around Fang's neck. Fang, not expecting the sudden attack, let out a surprised yelp and stumbled back slightly while trying to catch her.

"Whoa, whoa, hey!" Once Fang had steadied herself by leaning against the doorframe, she started laughing a light-hearted grin. "Easy there, Vanille! Might end up getting hair all over you."

Vanille responded by nuzzling into the crook of Fang's neck.

-x-

**AN**: So this is a little story idea I started for myself, originally. Don't ask me where the original idea came from; I don't remember. I started writing this as an attempt to one, get myself back into writing, and two, make myself feel better after a bout of depression. Then I said, "Eh, why not?" and decided to post it on here so I could get some feedback on my writing to make sure I'm not too rusty. Also, let's face it, the Final Fantasy XIII Archives have a severe lack of Fanille works.

So feel free to tell me what you think. All forms of criticisms are accepted. Until next time.


	2. Thunderstorm

The first sign that there was something wrong that night were the fingers tightening around Vanille's upper arm, squeezing her bicep and rousing her from her sleep. She gave a quiet moan and twisted slightly, but the grip on her arm did not loosen, so she thought that perhaps Fang was doing it unconsciously and was dreaming. "Fang…" she mumbled lightly, hoping to get the older woman to wake up.

Then Vanille heard the booming clap of thunder, and the situation started to make a lot more sense.

She felt Fang's fingers twitch against her skin and her breath hitch the second the thunder rumbled. Vanille hadn't even heard there was supposed to be a storm tonight; if she had, she would've warned Fang ahead of time and been more prepared to comfort her tonight. She knew how Fang felt about thunder.

Vanille had heard the story before; at first in pieces that she had to put together herself, and then, once Fang was ready, as a full explanation. When Fang had been young, only about eight years old, there had been a terrible thunderstorm. Fang's pack had no way of escaping the storm, instead being forced to hunker down through it. Unfortunately, a lightning strike near the site where the pack had decided to camp for the night resulted in a fire that quickly spread to a sizable chunk of the forest. Fang had been lucky enough to escape, but if any of the rest of her pack had been as well, she had never been able to find them.

Ever since, Fang had always been _uncomfortable_ – "I'm not scared," she would grumble bitterly when the issue was brought up, "I just don't like it, 's all." – when it came to thunder. It was almost funny in a tragic sort of way: Fang – big, strong Fang who never backed down to anything – had a crippling weakness to thunder.

This wasn't the first time a situation like this had occurred; Vanille knew how to handle this issue as she had a handful of times before. First, she brought her hand up to where Fang still had a hold on her arm and rubbed her knuckles gently. Fang's grip loosened, just enough for Vanille to get free in order to turn and face her.

Fang's eyes, as Vanille had expected, were closed. The only things that hinted towards her still being awake were the way her brow knitted together and her tense, slightly uneven breathing pattern. There was another crash of thunder and she let out a low prolonged whine before muttering with a clenched jaw, "…don't like this…bloody thunder…"

Vanille's next step to calm Fang down was to reach over and trace her collarbone, grazing the skin where the shoulder met the neck. The subtle movement was enough to draw forth a sound from the back of Fang's throat, this time not a sound of fear, but a sound of need and desire. The older woman leaned into Vanille's touch eagerly, much like a child or frightened animal needing comfort. Vanille's fingers then gently began trailing upward along Fang's neck, and the brunette cocked her head to the side almost immediately to allow for better access while reaching out and snaking her arms around Vanille's waist, tugging her closer.

Their bodies were now pressed together, with Fang burying her nose into Vanille's hair and taking solace in the familiar scent. Vanille made no attempts to pull away; even if she wanted to, trying to do so would only send Fang into a panicky fit. Instead, she ran her fingers up along the nape of Fang's neck, brushing her dark hair out of the way and stopping at the back of Fang's ear.

Fang's muscles loosened instantly – behind the ear had always been a weak spot for her – and she gave a contented sigh into Vanille's hair. Vanille then leaned over and planted a soft kiss on Fang's jaw. "It's okay, Fang…" she murmured before another kiss, this time on the cheek. "It's only thunder."

Fang pulled back slightly, just enough that she could look into Vanille's eyes without actually having to let go of her. She didn't say anything – she didn't have to – and a silence settled between them, with the sound of rain against the window pane serving as background noise. They laid like that for a few moments, tangled in each other's arms and staring into each other's eyes. Then it was Fang who made the next move; she broke the space between them and brought their lips together tenderly.

There was another crash of thunder, but Fang didn't pay it much mind. After all, it was only thunder.

-x-

**AN**: And now for another chapter of Warm and Fuzzy. This one got a little bit darker and a little bit more "touchy" than the last one, but I still feel like it came out pretty good. The reason I wrote this one was because in all the Fanille media I've seen, it's always Fang taking care of Vanille. Now, that's not to say there's anything wrong with that, but when it happens all the time, it makes Vanille look completely helpless, so I kinda wanted to break the trend and reverse the situation for once. Also, the "only thunder" line was meant to be a nod to Vanille's, "It's only water," line from Chapter Six.

Hope you all enjoyed, and feel free to leave any feedback. Until next time.


	3. Halloween

Lycans did not celebrate holidays. They had no long standing traditions or historical moments worth erecting a holiday for. The closest thing they had to an actual "holiday" were festivals of the hunt, which were only brief celebrations for a good hunting season and a large bounty of food, as a way to show thanks to nature. However, such celebrations were minor and depended wholly on how well the hunting season had gone; if the season had gone poorly, there would be no festival, as a sign of shame.

As a result, Fang had initially been confused by the concept of human holidays. Truth be told, she still didn't completely understand them, but at least now she was no longer caught off guard by the shift the household seemed to go through during one of the holiday seasons. While she personally held no interest in them, she realized that the celebrations clearly held a deep rooted history in human culture.

However, one holiday in particular always agitated her every time the season rolled around. Fang couldn't stand the humans' celebration of "Halloween".

"We are _not_ watching that." Fang grunted irritably from her spot on the sofa as the TV played some stupid movie about a vicious _werewolf_ terrorizing a summer camp. It was all well and fun for the humans – movies like these were standard fare on Halloween – but for a lycan, it was highly offensive. For one thing, the word "werewolf" itself was that of a racial slur to a lycan; werewolves were monsters created from the stories of farmers trying to scare children away from the forests in the old days, and were only loosely based off of the true tales of lycanthropy. However, it didn't take long for the words to begin being used interchangeably, despite the fact that werewolves were just a product of a children's fairy tale.

To make the issue even worse, even in the rare occasion where humans actually managed to use the right term, they still portrayed the culture entirely wrong. To humans, lycans were bloodthirsty, monstrous creatures who only existed to kill. In reality, lycans were actually fairly docile. They only ever hunted for food, not for sport or entertainment, and they had never outright attacked anyone unless threatened. More often than not, lycans kept to themselves and rarely interacted with anyone outside of the pack. A growl rolled in the back of Fang's throat as the movie monster lunged at the teenage girl who had just made an elaborate show over tripping over thin air.

On second thought, maybe a lycan would've attacked these kids, if only to beat some sense into them. They wouldn't even be able to escape from a wet paper bag, let alone a threat against their life.

"Hmm? Oh!" Vanille had only been flipping through channels and hadn't noticed what program the TV had ended up on. Rather, she had been more preoccupied with checking the amount of candy left in the bowl for the children, and had let the channel sit for a moment while she refilled the bowl. "Right, right, of course! Hang on…" She fumbled for the remote before starting the channel surf once more. "Sorry about that, Fang…"

Vanille was well aware of Fang's feelings toward Halloween. She understood that every October, Fang entered an irritable, angry mood that involved hating every aspect of the commercial Halloween traditions instilled in society. While she couldn't change the way the rest of the community celebrated Halloween, she always tried her best to make the household a safe environment with no offensive material around for Fang.

Fang leaned back and folded her arms across her chest with a huff. "No, no, it…it's fine." She knew Vanille tried really hard to cater to her feelings on this night; Fang wasn't about to put any of the blame on her. "At least you realize just how wrong this stuff is. Although…" Fang started as the TV flipped past a shot of a graying old man wearing a cape and fake pointed canines preying on a dolled up young maiden, "there is one thing the humans got right. Vampires are jerks."

She leaned over across the couch and draped her arm over Vanille's shoulders, but just when she was about to get comfortable, the doorbell rang, drawing forth an annoyed groan from Fang. "…Let me go get that." Vanille said almost apologetically as she got up from her seat, taking the candy bowl with her.

"Can you just ignore 'em?" Fang grumbled with a hint of pleading leaking into her tone. "Just this one time? They'll go away eventually." Then she sat upright with a devious grin. "No, wait. Better idea. You stay here, I go scare 'em off, and they won't bother us for the rest of the night." She looked to Vanille for some form of approval, but only a received a light shove to the shoulder, pushing her back down.

"Fang, no." Vanille said in the strictest tone she could manage. "Not after the last time." Honestly, Fang had expected that much. She wasn't allowed out near the children ever since Vanille had gotten complaints about her _dog_. Vanille took a quick moment to flip the TV channel to something a bit more lycan-friendly, and ended up on a bland late night game show – Fang had come to learn no matter what the date or what the time, there was always a game show on _some _channel. "I'll be back in a minute." Fang only huffed and rolled her eyes before glancing back at the television with little interest.

At first, Fang actually attempted watching the quiz show, even though she didn't wholly understand it – why was knowing random bits of trivia enough of an achievement to win money and prizes? – but then Vanille seemed to be taking a little longer than she usually did with the children. Fang considered going over to find out what the hold-up was, but ultimately decided against it; Vanille had told her to stay put, and if she didn't, Vanille would get upset. Perhaps she was just being impatient. Besides, if anything was really wrong, Vanille would've called for her.

Sure enough, just a few moments later, Vanille returned with the bowl, although she now looked just a tad bit worse for wear, almost like some stress had settled on her. Brow furrowed, Fang nudged her arm in concern. "Hey, you alright there, sunshine?" Now Fang was starting to second guess herself; maybe she should've gone to see what the problem had been.

"Oh, it…it's nothing." Vanille must not have noticed how much she was letting on. She never was much of a good liar, though; Fang always got the truth out of her in the end. "It was just a bunch of teenagers, and you know how they can be sometimes."

Fang snorted. She had been on the receiving end of a hood ornament of a car driven by teenagers; she knew _exactly _how teenagers could be sometimes. She could've said quite a few choice words on just how she felt on the topic, but she didn't particularly want to ruin the moment. Instead, she merely took Vanille back into her arms and nuzzled into her neck. "Forget about 'em." Fang mumbled into her ear softly. "They're not important right now."

Vanille leaned back slightly and turned her head, capturing Fang's lips in a kiss. Fang eagerly took the unspoken invitation, leaning back against the sofa slightly in order to get little bit more comfortable and bringing up a hand to cradle Vanille's head and running her fingers through the shorter woman's hair. Vanille, in turn, shifted to face Fang better, bringing her arms up around Fang's neck and falling forward against her.

They stayed like that for a few moments, with Fang changing position to better accommodate them both on the sofa, falling back and laying down. However, after a short while, Fang began mumbling between kisses and pulled back.

"What's wrong?" Vanille asked, her tone laced with concern and a twinge of disappointment. Fang shook her head in a way to mean that it had nothing to do with Vanille and was no fault of hers. Rather, she propped herself up on her elbows and turned towards the living room window, eyes narrowed as if trying to look straight through the fabric of closed curtains.

"…D'ya hear that?" She muttered lowly, her voice transforming into a quiet growl. It was a question that wasn't really meant to be answered, because Fang already knew Vanille would say no. After all, Fang's sense of hearing far surpassed any human's. Nonetheless, Vanille still silently shook her head in confusion. "You said the last kids that came here were teenagers, right?"

"Right, but…why does that matter?" Vanille asked, still not fully understanding the problem. It wasn't that she didn't believe Fang, but some context or explanation would've been nice.

Fang's shoulder muscles tensed and she shifted to get up. Vanille didn't stop her but still stared at her expectantly, waiting for an answer. Fang tilted her head slightly, trying to listen a little better and then growled again. "…Because they're still out there." She pushed against Vanille's shoulder gently as she sat up all the way. "Stay here."

Vanille almost protested, but stopped herself short. The tone in Fang's voice was enough to say that she was not about to be dissuaded. Like lycans tended to be, she was territorial, and if she sensed some form of threat, she went immediately on the defensive. Vanille was smart enough to know not to get in the way of any creature trying to defend its territory, even if that creature was Fang. So instead, she only gave a small nod of agreement with a quiet, "…Okay."

Fang gave her a quick light pat on the head as a form of reassurance that everything would be fine and that Vanille had absolute nothing to worry about because she would handle everything before standing up and making towards the door. "I'll be right back."

-x-

"Alright, you two got all the stuff we need out of the truck?" the red haired teen asked his companions. The slightly younger blond boy grinned, showing off the gap in his teeth, and nodded eagerly, but the dark skinned young man seemed slightly more reluctant.

"Listen, you sure we wanna do this, man?" he asked slowly with a shrug. The redhead and the blond turned to him, the blond looking dumbfounded and the redhead looking flat out betrayed. He paused, choosing his next words carefully but still standing his ground against them. "I mean, come on, guys. We can just head back home at this point. Haven't we hit enough houses tonight?"

"Are you trying to back out on us here, Abe?" the redhead asked, his voice terrifyingly quiet. The blond immediately leaped to his side, trying to mimic the older boy's dark glare, but not quite gathering the full effect. "What, are you scared we're gonna get caught or something? Is that it?"

Abus sighed and rolled his eyes. Of course that's where Bickson was going to take it. It always came down to 'being too scared' or 'being too weak' with him. "_No_, I'm not scared. I just say we've done enough for tonight. Best to quit while we're ahead, you know?"

Bickson snorted in disgust like the very idea offended him. "If you wanna leave, be my guest. No one's making you stay." He then turned to his younger friend and held out his hand expectantly. "Graav, pass me the thing of eggs. If Abe wants to miss out on all the fun, that's his problem." Graav was quick to comply, but before he could even start to pass the supplies, the front door of their targeted house opened by a crack. "Shi… – quick, get down behind the–"

The rest of the sentence died in his throat the very next second as he was cut off by a deep, lingering howl and a series of snarls and vicious barks. The front door was thrown open and the biggest dog any of them had ever seen flew down the porch steps, barreling straight for them. Panic overtook them immediately, with Graav in particular letting out a scream that was a few octaves higher than it should have been. They all scrambled for the truck, fumbling with the keys and falling over each other to get into their seats.

"You didn't mention anything about a dog!" Bickson snapped to Graav, fear making his irritation far less threatening than it should have.

"I didn't know!" Graav yelped, holding up his shaking hands in front of his face as if that would protect him from the scolding he was sure to get later.

"Shut up and drive!" Abus cut in from the back seat urgently. The other two had no protests, and the truck took off down the street, more than a few miles per hour over the speed limit, leaving the large dark brown dog on the sidewalk that was still growling at their retreating bumper.

-x-

"Fang, do you think you were a little too harsh on them?" Vanille asked later that night, long after the trick-or-treaters had stopped showing up for the night and the porch lights had been turned off.

"Too harsh?" Fang dismissed the idea and shook her head. "They're lucky I didn't chase 'em down the block. If anything, I went too easy on 'em." She playfully poked Vanille's forehead before wrapping and arm around her waist and pulling her in closer. "I think you're turning me soft."

"Well, maybe I like you soft." Vanille replied in rebuttal, laying her head on Fang's shoulder. "What then?"

Fang faked a sigh before smiling. "I guess I don't really have much of a choice then, huh? I mean, who could say no to a face like that?" She leaned over just enough to gently kiss Vanille's temple before nuzzling deeper into the sofa. "'Course, next time something like this happens, they won't even make it two feet before I kill 'em."

Vanille bolted upright. "Fang!"

"I'm kidding! I'm kidding." Fang answered with a grin. "Two feet's being way too generous."

-x-

**AN**: And now for another chapter of Warn and Fuzzy. Yeah, I bet you guys thought I forgot about this story, huh? Not the case. I've just been busy all month preparing for the Halloween special, which is our longest chapter so far. Not much to say about this one, but I hope you all have a happy Halloween or, if you don't celebrate Halloween, a fantastic October 31st.

Hope you all enjoyed, and feel free to leave any feedback. Until next time.


End file.
